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Lyrics

As I wash your body, I will fill hell with you
With your every limb in any consequence
With your bones attached to my collared shirt

Impulse items of conquest dives
Dripping with the matricide of comparable bungee chord static
(Provider available!)
Severe my inflatable crucifix
My favorite necktie
(Lord, rid me of my word vomit)

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My sourness, my bitter red
My constant need to feel like I'd be better off dead
All of this pushes you down in your seat
This sky writer pattern that you let repeat

Don't spell it out
Or speak my name
To get the desired affect
Spirit, Ignore
Spread across the floor, you fucked up the floor
(In your moral panic with a thousand doors)
(How a cycle treats you)
Like you're a cold sore

Pagans mocking
Biography
Written with lightning
(Put it on the tracks, pray the train's your friend)

Your legs are shaking
To the unforetold
Justice is served

Everyone remembers their first experience with deja-vu
For her, it was her first grade art teacher saying
"These shouldn't look like octopuses"
To the class while they were painting trees
"You said that in my dream!" she exclaimed
Believing her experience to be nothing but a subconscious escapade

She then realized her response was also part of the "dream"
30 years later, she felt this way 800 times over
Like she had been here before
Repeating the same actions day in and day out

Shatter everything, sever all your ties
Give the sand a new home inside your cavities
Obey the homily, jerk off in your car
Kick up pollen while you drive back to the living quarters

Don't spell it out
Or speak my name
To get the desired affect
Spirit, Ignore!
(Spread across the floor, you fucked up the floor)
In your moral panic with a thousand doors
How a cycle treats you
Like a cold sore

Stand and watch
This is what you did with the one life you had
You ruined it
I want to earn this moment
I want to work my way back
I want to start over
I want to start over

The angels are all the same
The owls are not what they seem
(Start over)

Writer(s): Carson Pace

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